


That's What Brothers Do

by LiaIsInLove



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anorexia, Anorexia Nervosa, Anorexic Niall, Bullied Niall, Bullying, But it's about Niall, Cutting, Depressed Niall, Depression, EDNOS, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, Gen, Half-Siblings, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Louis' POV, Louis-centric, Mental Health Issues, Mental Illness, Niall Horan & Louis Tomlinson Are Brothers, Niall's Mother Died, Niall-centric, Nouis - Brothers, Psych Ward, Sad Niall, Self-Harm, Self-Harming Niall, Suicidal Niall, Suicide Attempt, Younger Niall, big brother Louis, psychiatric hospital, self mutilation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 00:45:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4120320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiaIsInLove/pseuds/LiaIsInLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis Tomlinson loved many things. However there was one thing that Louis Tomlinson didn’t love but rather, he hated with a burning passion. And that thing was a boy by the name of Niall Horan-Tomlinson.</p><p>Or the one where Louis Tomlinson had the perfect life until his family finds out that his father had had an affair, which resulted in a bastard child by the name of Niall.  Louis thought his family would be able to move past this unpleasant surprise.  But when Niall's mother dies and the boy is forced to come live with the Tomlinson's, Louis' life as he knew it is threatened and he must learn to love the boy who nearly ruined his family before it's too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this story will have five parts. This is the Introduction. Some actual shit will happen in the next part.
> 
> I can't remember who's lovely story it was that inspired me to do my own spinoff, but it was one where Louis and Niall are half brothers and Niall hurts himself and Louis has to take him to the hospital. It's a great story, and if you know what it is, please tell me so I can give credit to the author for the inspiration behind this. 
> 
> Trigger warnings, as always. I shall once again beg you not to read if you think you have any possibility of being triggered.
> 
> More notes at the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***IMPORTANT NOTE***  
> I am in the process of re-writing this story. I have made changes to the characters ages and some other details about the story. However the basic overall plot will remain the same.  
> 

Louis Tomlinson loved many things. He loved his sisters, his mother and father, his friends, and his girlfriend. He loved waking up to the smell of a good fry up courtesy of his mum.   He loved singing in the shower, playing footie, and laughing with his friends. He loved riling up stuffy old teachers, cracking jokes, listening to music, mucking about in the rain, watching sappy old rom-coms with his girlfriend, verbally tearing down stupid school bullies, poking fun of people he didn’t like, and spraying his sisters with the garden hose. He loved spending time with his family, irritating the shit out of his grandma’s cat, trying (and failing) to cook pancakes, teasing his sisters, throwing snowballs out the window at passersby, eating ice cream (he loved every flavor except anything with almonds in it), and wrestling with his mates. He loved making adults think he was a courteous wonderful young gentleman, being a total pain in the arse (when he wanted to be), sneaking out in the dead of night with his stealthy ninja skills, lying under the stars with his girlfriend, dancing at parties, helping his mum with the dishes (though he furiously denied this), driving his car, and having big family dinners. In short, Louis Tomlinson loved many things. However there was one thing that Louis Tomlinson didn’t love but rather, he hated with a burning passion. And this thing was a boy by the name of Niall Horan-Tomlinson.

Louis hated everything about this boy. From the way that he walked, hesitant and shuffling yet somehow silent, to the overly baggy sweatshirts he drowned himself in, to his stupid Irish accent, to the unkempt mop of lank blonde hair that flopped listlessly over his ugly blue eyes, to the way he spoke as if he didn’t want to make any noise, to the heaps of food he left untouched on his plate at every meal, to the way he seemed almost afraid of Louis, to his inability to fucking make eye-contact with anyone, to his very existence, Louis Tomlinson hated everything about Niall Horan-Tomlinson. He hated how the kid looked like he never slept at night, He hated hearing the angsty music playing from behind his permanently closed door. He hated the way he spoke to Louis’ father, and the way he avoided Louis’ mother. He fucking hated how the stupid kid never stood up for himself and let himself be torn to shreds; it was pathetic. God, Louis fucking hated him so much. But what he hated the most about him was that he was his half brother and nothing could change that.

See, the thing is, Louis Tomlinson had had the perfect life. Honestly, he couldn’t have asked for a better one. He had two loving parents, a well-off family, a beautiful girlfriend, an older and younger sister who he loved very much, tons of good friends, and three of the best mates any boy could ask for. He got good grades, he was very popular, and a star player on the school football team, he had his own car, and just about anything he’d ever wanted. Louis Tomlinson had had it good.

Until Niall ruined everything.

Louis had been twelve years old when they found out about Niall. Niall, the bastard child of some whore his father slept with eight years previously. The stupid cunt had nearly ruined his parents’ marriage. His father had cheated on his mother with some Irish slut, and had been too stupid to fucking use protection. And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, his father had lied for eight fucking years—all the business trips he supposedly went every few months on were just cover stories for so he could go see the whore and her child.

The only reason they found out about Niall was because the stupid fucking kid landed himself in the hospital, and his whore of a mother was too much of an idiot to think that maybe, just maybe, calling Louis’ father on the _home_ phone to tell him that their son was in the hospital just _might_ perhaps be a little bit suspicious. So of course Louis’ father had booked the next flight to Ireland, promising to explain everything to the family when he got back.

But Louis’ mom hadn’t just sat tight while her husband was away. She did some digging, and found the child support checks Louis’ father had been sending to the whore. Needless to say, when Louis’ father came home, the two of them had the biggest fight Louis had ever seen. They screamed so loud and for so long that Louis was afraid he was going to go deaf. They fought non-stop for months. It was so bad that Louis was genuinely afraid to go home each day. His older sister, Abigail, had taken to bringing him and their younger sister, Isabella, along to her friends’ houses so they could escape the screaming.

Louis’ mother was planning on divorcing his father and fighting for sole custody, but somehow, miraculously, the two had worked it out, after many months of rabid fighting, cruel insults, snide remarks, and deafening silences. It took years for things to go back to the way that they were before Niall. But his mother and father loved each other very much, and they loved Louis and his sisters even more, and were determined to make it work for their children’s sakes. So they went to couples therapy and somehow they worked it out.

And Louis had thought that the nightmare that was Niall was out of his life. Sure, his father still went to see the bastard kid once every two months, and sure his father still sent money to the whore, but for the most part, things were back to normal, and Louis could live with that. Until Niall’s whore of a mother died. And then, just as he had done before, Niall single-handedly ruined Louis’ life.

And because the bastard had no living family, or at least no family who wanted him, he had been shipped off to London to live with Louis and his father.

* * *

 

When Niall had first come to live with Louis and his family, the boy spent all day locked up in his room, bawling his eyes out, only emerging when Louis’ father coaxed him out for meals. It was easy enough for Louis to avoid the kid and simply pretend that he wasn’t there. Louis had his own life, after all. He was busy finishing up Year Eleven, writing his exams and so he did his best to ignore the fact that there was an undersized eleven year old in his house. Louis still hated that he was in _his_ home, and he still hated that he had to share _his_ parents, and he hated everything about the stupid son of a bitch, but Louis wasn’t totally heartless. The kid’s mother had just died for Christ’s sake. Sure she was a whore and the world was probably better off without her, but she was the kid’s mother, and he was bound to miss her. So Louis left Niall alone to his crying.

But after several months Louis’ patience and sympathy was drying up. He understood that Niall had lost his mother, but it had been months, he should be over it, or at the very least trying to act grateful towards the people who had taken him in out of the kindness of their hearts, rather than ignoring them all day and refusing to speak to them unless spoken to, and even then only mumbling a few words at best.

And if that wasn’t enough, Louis was really starting to hate Niall for the way he treated his mum. She was so kind to him, even though he was the son of a bitch who tried his best to ruin her marriage. She took him into her house, cooked him meals, did his laundry, fussed over him, comforted him when he was crying, brought him food when he refused to come out of his room—hell, she practically treated him like a son (one of the reason’s why Louis absolutely loved his mother was her inexplicable kindness and ability to love, but he absolutely detested that she was wasting her love on the useless lump that was Niall). But Niall, the selfish brat that he was, acted like she was a monster. He was terrified of her. And it drove Louis off the deep end. The way he always acted like she was going to scream at him, the way he flinched whenever she spoke to him, the way he never stayed in the same room as her, the way he bowed his head in fear every time she looked at him, the way he avoided her like she had the Black fucking Plague. It made Louis mental. Because she was so nice to him, and she didn’t have to be, hell, she _shouldn’t_ be, he’d nearly ruined all of their lives after all, and he just treated her like shit. If Louis didn’t hate the brat before, he certainly did now.

And soon enough the summer holidays were over, and it was time to start school again. Only this time, Niall would be joining Louis and Isabella.

Not only was it bad enough that he had to share his father, much less his home, with the bastard child, but Niall actually had the nerve to attend the same school as Louis. Louis and Isabella went to d’Overbroeck’s College, a nearby independent school that taught Year Seven through Sixth Form. Louis was in Year Twelve, just starting up his Lower Sixth Form, and Isabella was in Year Eleven. Because Niall was going into Year Eight, Louis’ parents had decided to send him to d’Overbroek’s too. And so Louis was forced to share yet another aspect of his life with Niall.

It was so embarrassing. d’Overbroek was a small school, and gossip traveled fast, plus Isabella and her stupid friends couldn’t keep their fat mouths shut so the entire fecking school knew exactly who Niall Horan-Tomlinson was. Then entire fecking school knew that the scrawny Irish weirdo was the bastard child of a slut Louis’ father had an affair with. The entire fecking school knew that Louis William Tomlinson was related to the freak who never spoke and sat alone every day. And it killed Louis.

Because it wasn’t just that Niall was the bastard child of a whore. Niall was a _freak_. He barely spoke, even at home; he always wore a jumper, no matter the weather; he never ate more than a few bites; he had a doctor’s note exempting him from phys-ed; and he would not make eye contact with anyone. And Louis hated him with every fiber of his being.

Louis was _cool_. He was _popular_. One of the stars of the football team, a good student, and a highly social boy; Louis was a favourite of both the staff and the students. And Niall… Niall was that loser who got picked on by the older kids for being a duffer. His grades were shit, he had no athletic ability whatsoever—or at least none that anyone knew of because he was always on the sidelines during any physical activities—and he had no social skills. He didn’t even have any friends in his own year. No one directly bullied him, per say, or rather, Louis had no knowledge of anyone bullying him to his face, but he was the running joke of the entire school, and the subject of much gossip and speculation. Louis just couldn’t be related to somebody _that_ pathetic. He couldn’t. But he was. And everybody knew. And he fucking hated it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, not much action, sorry. But the next part will have lots going on, I promise.
> 
> A few things to note:
> 
> First off: I can't seem to come up with a good explanation for exactly why I don't feel comfortable using Louis' actual sisters in this story. The best way I can explain it to you is that some of his sisters are the same age as a lot of the readers, and I think it's awkward for them to be in fanfiction when they didn't do anything other than be related to Louis. Not that I'm trying to disrespect them and say that they don't deserve to be in here, but rather, I'm trying to respect that many teenage girls read fanfiction and have tumblrs, and it's hard enough being a teenage girl without having strangers make up perverted stories and ascribe personalities and characteristics to you. Louis' actual sisters have enough going on for them that they don't need any added trouble of ever accidentally coming across something as weird as a fanfiction of them. I don't know if that makes any sense, but that's how I feel. So I made up characters to be Louis' sisters. I hope that's okay with you lot.
> 
> Secondly: I hate to admit this, but I am not British, haha. Half of my family is, but I am not. So I don't know how things like the school system in the UK work. I am trying to do my research, but research can only get you so far. So if I ever have something that is inaccurate or just straight up wrong PLEASE TELL ME SO I CAN FIX IT!! I want to make this as realistic as possible--well as realistic as fanfiction can be that is.
> 
> Lastly: I will go into much more detail later in the story, but for now, here is a very basic guide to the main characters and their ages that will hopefully clarify a few things. The story begins in the Fall of 2015 (back forever ago when I started writing this). The following is the character's birthdays and their ages and grade levels at the start of the story. 
> 
> Abigail Lucy Tomlinson: May 28th, 1994 (21) — Year 3 in Uni  
> Louis William Tomlinson: September 19th 1998 (17) — Year 12 (Sixth Form)  
> Isabella Grace Tomlinson: January 12th, 2000 (15) — Year 11  
> Niall James Horan-Tomlinson: August 28th, 2003 (12) — Year 8


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I AM ABSOLUTELY BEGGING YOU: DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVE ANY POSSIBILITY OF BEING TRIGGERED BY SELF HARM, GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS, OR BLOOD. PLEASE! YOUR SAFETY IS WAY MORE IMPORTANT THAN THIS STUPID FIC. I PROMISE. SO PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU MIGHT BE TRIGGERED.
> 
> Secondly, when I mention hockey, I am referring to field hockey, not ice hockey.
> 
> More notes at the end.

Louis was ecstatic. Both his mum and his dad would be gone the entire day, taking Isabella to her stupid hockey camp. Well, it wasn’t really that stupid, if Louis was being honest. It was actually a brilliant opportunity; Isabella had been invited to a camp coached by one of the national women’s teams down in Plymouth. Louis was proud of his sister, of course, but mostly he was just glad to have the house to himself for once. Well, Niall would be there too, but the kid never came out of his room, so he’d be easy enough to ignore. And Louis was dying to have the lads over for some FIFA where they could make as much noise as they wanted without anyone telling them to use their “indoor voices,” or some stupid shit like that.

He had been planning this for weeks. Harry was bringing the pizza, Liam was going to convince his mum to make cookies—God bless Karen Payne and her delicious cookies—and Zayn was bringing the alcohol. They were all set to have a proper lads day. All Louis had to do was make sure that the little brat left them alone, which wouldn’t be too hard at all, considering the fact that he was seemingly allergic to social interactions of any kind. So all in all, Louis was set to have a bloody fantastic day with his lads, because it had been way too fucking long since they’d had a chance to hang out and make a mess and get drunk and just have fun.

With that sentiment in mind, Louis bid Isabella and his parents good bye, assuring his mum that no, he promised he would not burn down the house, yes, of course he’d look after Niall (not), and obviously he would clean up the house before they got home. It was 6:00 am on a Saturday, so naturally Louis went back to bed for another five hours. When he woke up, he texted Harry to get his lazy ass over here because he was bored and starving, a rather dangerous combination he thought. Yawning, Louis pried himself out of his bed. Walking down the hall to Niall’s room, Louis rolled his eyes. Of course the lazy shithead was still in bed. He expected nothing less of him. Pounding on the door, Louis yelled, “Oi! Brat! I’m having my mates over in a bit, and I do _not_ want to see your ugly face anywhere near us. Got it?” Not pausing for an answer, Louis made his way back down the hall and down the stairs. The last thing he needed was the little freak scaring off his mates.

All in all, Louis felt pretty good. He’d had a nice lie in, made sure the brat wouldn’t bother him, and his best mates were coming over any second now and bringing food and a few pints. He was ready to have a nice relaxing, stress free day.

* * *

 

A loud banging on the door alerted Louis to Liam’s arrival. Typical Liam; always the first to arrive. Louis practically flew off the couch where he had been lazing. “Payno,” he greeted, clapping Liam on the back.

“Tommo!” Liam returned, butting his shoulder playfully into Louis’ as he shoved past him into the house, carrying a tray of cookies.

Louis snickered. “Want an apron with that tray, granny?” Liam just rolled his eyes, retorting that it had been Louis who had called him up, begging him to bring cookies. Louis snorted, “It’s not my fault my mum is on some stupid health kick and is refusing to make anything with sugar in it.” It was true. Louis’ mum was going through another one of her healthy living phases, and was implementing it on the rest of the family, much to the rest of the family’s displeasure. Louis swore that if he had to eat kale one more night, he might just blow a gasket. Or vomit. Most likely the latter, but he hadn’t made up his mind entirely yet. All he knew was that he was in desperate need of some junk food and Karen Payne’s wonderful cookies lest he risk dying a very green and leafy death.

Louis had scarfed down at least three cookies by the time Harry snuck up behind him and given him a very painful and very blatant love bite that Louis would have to explain to his girlfriend later. Eleanor would understand, but still. Louis needed to come up with a way to get Harry back for this.  For the time being however, he settled for swatting Harry in the balls. He snickered as Harry doubled over and cursed loudly.

“That’s no less than you deserve for sneaking up on me, young Harold.” Harry was only eight months younger than Louis, but Louis loved to pretend that he was older and wiser. Out of the four of them, Louis was technically the oldest, two months older than Zayn, five months older than Liam, and eight months older than Harry, however he had yet to discover any of the so called maturity that was supposed to come with age. As Harry liked to put, he acted like a five year old and it was a wonder that he had a girlfriend what with him possessing the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. Not that Harry was all that much better than Louis. Okay, so maybe he had more like a tablespoon of emotional capacity, but he was still an immature little shit. Really, the most mature out of their group was definitely Liam, though the boys were corrupting him (he had been the last edition to their group, moving from Wolverhampton just before Year Nine, and they were slowly but surely corrupting him and turning him into an immature little twat like the rest of them). Zayn could be mature, and he pretended to be mature and responsible and all that crap, but secretly he was just as much of a rambunctious little shit as Louis, and he proudly took the role of his partner in crime and fellow prank-master. But they were his best mates, and he wouldn’t swap them for the world.

After settling himself back on the couch, a quiet knock rang through the house. That was Zayn. Louis didn’t bother to get up, knowing that Zayn would let himself in like he usually did, though unlike Harry, he at least pretended to have some respect for Louis’ family’s privacy, and for the fact that he didn’t actually live here. That was Zayn. Louis turned to beam at Zayn as he entered the room, only to get a blast of water to the face. Zayn had shot him with a water gun.

“You piece of shit!” Louis spluttered, spitting water out of his mouth. “Oh it’s on!” He immediately launched himself off the couch and wrestled Zayn to the floor. Zayn may be taller than Louis, but Louis was strong—he was on the football team after all—had a big ego, was entirely fearless, played extremely dirty, and above all refused to surrender and accept defeat of any kind (Harry liked to say Louis had a Napoleon Complex because he was so small, to which Louis always vehemently objected). Zayn and Louis grappled at each other, rolling about on the floor, fighting for dominance. Louis, despite his sopping wet hair and Zayn’s knee pressing uncomfortably into his back, grinned. This was going to be a great day.

* * *

 

“I’m soo gonna kick your arse!” Liam shouted, his face contorted in concentration as he glared intensely at the screen, willing his players to beat Louis’.

Louis cackled gleefully as he successfully scored another goal. “Not in a million years Payno! I’m too fucking good and you know it! That, and you suck. You’re almost as bad as Hazza! Ha!”

“Hey,” protested Harry, scowling up at Louis from where he lay sprawled on the floor. Liam, rather than bothering to reply, simply thwacked Louis upside the head with his free hand. Unwilling to take his eyes or hands off the game, Louis contented himself with elbowing Liam hard in the side. Zayn and Harry, who had opted to sit this game out in favor of stuffing their faces with cookies, both laughed.

Louis was on the verge of scoring another goal when his phone vibrated in his pocket, ringing loudly. “Shitface,” he muttered, pausing the game, to which Liam protested loudly, insisting that he was about to score a goal. “Shut it, you,” Louis growled, though his tone was light. Pulling out his phone, Louis glanced at the caller ID. “The fuck?” he mumbled upon seeing that it was Niall who was calling him. Louis didn’t want to answer, but he figured his mum would probably string him up on the clothesline alongside his pants if he didn’t. So Louis begrudgingly picked up his phone. “What do you want, you lazy sod?”

“L-Louis,” Niall breathed. Louis thought it sounded like he was crying. What a surprise.

Louis had no patience for this. The little knob head was interrupting Louis’ time with his mates. Louis’ a busy person; he’s on the football team, which practices every day, in the school’s drama club, and he studies a lot to keep his grades up, so he rarely has any down time to just chill with his mates. This is one of the few times where he can just relax and have fun with Harry, Liam, and Zayn, and here Niall is, the selfish twat, ruining it by calling Louis to waste his time with his usual blubbering. “What do you want?” Louis repeated, his voice harsh and cold as ice.

He rolled his eyes when he heard Niall sniffle. “Can…can you please come upstairs?” Niall practically whispered, his voice shaking with tears.

He had to be fucking kidding. They were in the same fucking house for Christ’s sake. If he needed something, he could come down and get Louis. But no, this spoilt brat had to _call_ Louis on the phone to ask him to leave his friends to come upstairs and see him. “No, I bloody well can’t. I’m in the middle of something. If you need something you can come downstairs,” snapped Louis. He was tired of this kid’s bullshit. He may have fooled Louis’ parents, but he certainly wasn’t fooling Louis. Louis saw right through him; he saw what a spoilt ungrateful little brat he really was.

“I-I can’t!” Niall choked out. Louis rolled his eyes once more. What a pathetic drama queen. “Please! I’m sorry but I really need you. P-p-please Louis!” He broke into noisy tears again. Louis groaned. He absolutely detested sniveling whiny little kids. Niall was twelve years old Christ’s sake. He shouldn’t be crying any more anyways. What a fucking baby.

Louis rolled his eyes, spitting out a very irritated, “Fine!” before angrily punching the _End Call_ button and throwing his phone down on the couch.

Zayn quirked his eyebrows at Louis, a silent, “What was that about?” clearly written on his face.

Louis huffed. “The stupid brat _called_ me to beg me to come upstairs.”

“Why’s that?” questioned Liam, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Beats me,” shrugged Louis. This really was quite ridiculous. How fucking hard was it to walk down the two flights of stairs. Sure, Louis had warned him to not come down, but Louis was sure that the kid wasn’t that stupid to have taken his words so literally. Actually never mind, Louis wasn’t sure, because Niall was pretty fucking stupid. He was practically failing all of his classes, and he always had this blank look on his face whenever people were talking to him, as if he hadn’t a clue what they were saying. “The feckin’ brat probably just wants some attention.”

Zayn scowled slightly, a look of irritation crossing his face. “You know, you don’t have to be so mean to him. He’s just a kid.”

Louis scoffed in indignation. “That _cunt_ is the reason my parents nearly got a divorce.”

“It’s not his fault he was born,” Zayn replied, his scowl deepening as he held Louis’ gaze. Louis couldn’t believe this. Why was Zayn, his best mate, turning on him like this?

“He fucking ruined my life!” Louis insisted, his blue eyes narrowing to slits—always a danger sign—as he glared fiercely at Zayn, growing angrier with each passing second. Zayn had better lay off soon, or else there was going to be hell to pay.

Snorting in derision, Zayn retorted, “Oh for Christ’s sake, cut it with that shit! You have a great life and you know it. And it’s not Niall’s fault that your father cheated on your mum. It’s not Niall’s fault that his mother died.”

“Shut up,” growled Louis menacingly. He was absolutely livid that Zayn had the nerve to come into _his_ home, and start criticizing him for hating the piece of shit that made his life absolutely miserable.

Zayn wasn’t backing down though. He remained calm, but his gaze was hard and determined as he stared Louis straight in the face. “No _you_ shut up. I’m sick of your crap. Have you ever pulled your head out of your arse long enough to think what it might be like for Niall?” Not pausing for an answer, he continued. “No. Of course you haven’t. Because you’re the most self-absorbed person I know. Seriously, this kid has way bigger problems than you do. Anyone can see that. Honestly, just fucking _look_ at him. But you won’t even do that, you’re so caught up in yourself—“

Louis cut him off with a snarl, “ _Get out of my house!_ ” Louis was beyond furious. Zayn, his best mate since they were in diapers, was showing his true colors and siding with the spoilt brat that was hell-bent on ruining every aspect of Louis’ life.

Zayn, ever cool and collected, didn’t even bat an eyelash. “Gladly.” He stood from the couch and walked out of the room. Just before he left, he turned and said breezily, “I’m sorry that you’re too caught up in yourself to see that your _brother_ really needs some help. And I’m sorry that you’re too stubborn to understand that I’m just trying to help you. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Louis. You need to grow up and pull your fat head out of your arse.” And with that, he swept out of the room.

Silence. Stinging silence filled the room, buzzing like a hive of angry hornets, crawling under the cracks, swarming around the remaining three, suffocating them as they struggled to find words.

“Well,” snapped Louis, finally breaking through the hordes of silence.

Liam cleared his throat uneasily, obviously trying to buy time. Lucky for him, it was Harry who found his voice next. “Lou, I think you should go check on Niall…” He was hesitant, evidently not as bold as Zayn, but still ready to voice his opinion.

“Whatever,” Louis muttered, storming out of the room and up the stairs. He knew that Harry and Liam were having a frantically whispered conversation behind his back, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. “Stop gossiping about how much of an arse you think I am,” he bit out, throwing the words angrily over his shoulder. He could tell that Liam and Harry had frozen, guilty and caught dead. “Are you coming or not?” he snarled and he heard the two hasten to follow after him, keeping their distance, not wanting to get too close to the simmering volcano that was Louis Tomlinson.

Not bothering to wait for Liam or Harry to catch up, Louis shoved his way into Niall’s room. The room was empty, but the light coming from under the bathroom door told Louis exactly where the kid was. Crossing the room in several strides, Louis tried the handle, only to find it locked. He pounded on the door with his fist shouting, “Open up you lousy cunt! What the hell are you doing calling me up here and then locking me out?” Louis thought he heard a sniffle come from inside the room. What a fucking baby.

“Ok-kay,” came the quiet reply. Louis heard what sounded like a yelp of pain before the soft click told him that the door was unlocked. Pushing the door open, Louis surveyed the scene before him. Niall was sitting on the ground in his boxers and a long-sleeved tee shirt, tears pouring down his thin face. He was hunched over, pressing a towel to his left hip. The towel, once a pale blue, was drenched in a bright red liquid, which was also splattered across the pristine white tiles of the floor. Niall was gasping as he sobbed, clutching to the towel as though it were a lifeline, his white knuckles contrasting oddly with the bright red substance coating his fingers.

Louis stared, unable to process what he was seeing. “What’s going on?” he asked none to kindly. Niall kept crying, seemingly ignoring Louis’ question. “Niall,” Louis said, his tone more forceful.

Refusing to look up at Louis, Niall whispered something inaudible. Louis repeated his question once more. As soon as the shaky words left Niall’s lips, Louis heard two gasps from behind him. Harry and Liam. But his brain wasn’t working properly. He heard Niall’s voice, recognized the annoying Irish accent that he so detested, but he didn’t understand what he’d said, the words washing over him in waves. “What?” he repeated.

Niall’s voice was louder, though he still refused to make eye contact with any of them as he said, “I cut too deep.” Louis looked once more around the room. He took in the red-speckled floor, the towel drenched in red thrown into the bathtub, the trails of red liquid oozing down the drain, Niall’s fingers covered in the same red, Niall’s blotchy red cheeks, and the metallic smell that he knew but couldn’t quite place. Something silver caught the light, drawing Louis’ gaze. A razor blade.

Louis’ brain was scrabbling to put the pieces together, but it was like trying to cup water in his hands; the harder he tried to grasp it, the faster it trickled from between his fingers. Louis stood in the doorway, trying to comprehend what was happening. Even as Harry and Liam pushed past him into the room, he stood there, staring blankly.

Crouching down by Niall’s side, Liam placed a gentle hand on Niall’s back. “It’s okay,” he murmured to him. Harry was on Niall’s other side, rubbing his arm in a comforting way. “I know it hurts buddy, but I have to take a look to see if we need to take you to the hospital. Okay.”

Niall, like always, kept his eyes averted. However, he did give the faintest of nods. So Liam, ever so carefully, lifted the towel from Niall’s hip.

A wave of nausea swept over Louis as he stared at Niall’s mangled leg. This wasn’t just a cut. His leg was practically hanging open. The gash must have been at least five centimeters long, and three centimeters wide. The skin had split open, and was gaping apart. Blood pulsed from the wound, spurting out in rhythmic beats, like it was keeping time with some perverse song. Louis felt like he was going to vomit. Or faint. He wasn’t one to get light-headed at the sight of blood, but this was too much. It looked like someone had carved out a chunk of the kid’s flesh, leaving behind a deep crevice gaping open and gushing blood. Only that wasn’t all, raised mounds of puckered flesh varying from shades of sickening magenta to fleshy pink to a faint white covered his skin, alongside a myriad of thin white and pink lines, crisscrossing in endless patterns.

Louis’ brain was working overtime, trying to connect the dots. While he struggled to comprehend what was happening, Louis was vaguely aware of Harry’s gasp of horror, Liam’s muttered, “ _Holy shit_ ,” and the increase in the volume of Niall’s crying. _Think! Think!_ His brain was shouting. Scars everywhere, a revoltingly deep gash, a razor blade, Niall’s words, “I cut too deep,” and red liquid surging from the wound, drenching the towels, trickling down the drain, splattering the floor. Well the red liquid was blood. His brain was able to make that connection. But he was still missing pieces. _I cut too deep. I cut too deep._ _I cut too deep_. Niall’s words were ringing in his ears, playing over and over again, like a broken record. _I cut too deep_. _I cut…_

_I cut…_

_I cut…_

_Too deep…_

_I cut too deep…._

_I cut too deep…_

And then it clicked. Niall had cut himself. With a razor blade. On purpose. He had been doing this for months, probably years, if the scars were anything to go by. Only this time he had gone too deep. And he needed to go to the hospital. Now.

Louis sprung into action. Liam, having recovered himself slightly, had already grabbed another towel and was pressing it hard to Niall’s hip, trying to slow the bleeding. “Niall, can you stand up?” asked Louis. Niall shook his head, tears still falling thick and fast. “Okay. That’s fine. Liam, pick him up. Harry, you keep pressing that towel down. Hard. Don’t stop.” When neither of them moved at his words, Louis shouted out, “Now!” That was enough to spur them into action. Liam, who was on the football team with Louis, was a muscular kid and scooped Niall up easily. Then again, Niall was tiny, Louis noted in the back of his mind. It was kind of frightening how small he was. But Louis would think about that later. For now he needed to focus on getting Niall to the nearest A&E as fast as possible.

When Liam picked Niall up, the kid whimpered in pain, his eyes sparkling with fresh tears. “It’s okay buddy. I know it hurts. But we’re going to get you some help. Okay,” Liam soothed.

Harry stood up too, pressing down on Niall’s wound with the now blood-soaked towel. Niall yelped out, and redoubled his crying. Guilt flashed across Harry’s face as he moaned, “ _I’m sorry_. I’m sorry. I know it hurts, but I have to stop the bleeding.” When Niall just whimpered and cried harder, Harry looked close to tears himself, “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“It’s okay, Haz. Just keep pressing down. You’re doing the right thing,” Louis told him hastily. He then turned to Liam and Niall and said, “Liam, can you carry him down to the car?” Liam nodded, replying that Niall was very light…almost too light. “We don’t have time for that now! Just move!” Louis snapped. He didn’t mean to be so harsh and callous, it was just that he was terrified. The cut was so deep, and Niall had already lost a lot of blood. (And Louis had taken his grand old time before going up to check on him so who knows how long he’d been bleeding for…)

The three of them made their way as quickly as they could down the stairs, trying their best not to jostle Niall too much. With each step down, Niall let out a pitiful whimper, each time causing Harry and Liam to grimace. Louis kept urging them to go faster.

When they finally made it out into the front yard, Louis was surprised to find Zayn sitting on the front steps. “I figured you might need me…” he supplied by way of an explanation.

All grudges and anger forgotten, Louis simply said, “Yeah, we do. C’mon we gotta get to the A&E!”

They all piled into Louis’ car, Liam and Harry in the back seat, with Niall on Liam’s lap and Harry still pressing down on Niall’s leg with the now thoroughly bloodied towel. Louis climbed into the driver’s seat, and Zayn into the passenger seat, Zayn, though still somewhat out of the loop in terms of information, frequently looking back to check on Niall and the others.

Louis swore he had never driven so fast or broken so many traffic laws before. He normally was a fast driver, but today he was racing through the streets, swerving past cars with lightning precision, darting through intersections at dizzying speeds, and all around refusing to use the break pedal. He was surprised that he hadn’t been pulled over yet. But all thoughts other than _get to the hospital, get to the hospital, get to the hospital_ were blown from his mind as he whipped around yet another roundabout, narrowly avoiding slamming into another car. The other driver blasted their horn at Louis, but Louis was already speeding off out of sight. _Get to the hospital. Get to the hospital. Get to the hospital._

When they finally reached the A&E, Louis pulled up in front of the doors. Liam and Harry were already easing Niall out of the car. He looked to Zayn. Zayn seemed to have read his mind, saying, “You go. I’ll park the car and meet you inside.” Louis nodded gratefully before clambering hastily out of the car.

As he should have expected, the waiting room was quite crowded. Yet that didn’t stop Louis from shoving his way to the front desk, Liam and Harry hot on his heels. When he got to the front desk, the disgruntled nurse gave him a disapproving look, clearly annoyed by Louis’ lack of manners. Louis ignored her disapproval. Gesturing at Niall he said, “He’s hurt and needs to see a doctor.” When the nurse said nothing, Louis hissed, “ _Now!_ ”

The nurse raised her eyebrows at Louis in disdain. “Well, as you clearly have failed to notice, we’re a little busy at the moment and there are other patients that need to see a doctor too.” Louis glared at her. “I’m sorry but you’re going to have to wait.” She didn’t look very sorry.

“Look lady,” growled Louis menacingly, “my brother is twelve years old, he’s lost a lot of blood, and I really don’t think him dying here because you refuse to help him would look all that good, now would it.”

The nurse positively glowered at Louis. “What kind of injury are we talking about?”

Louis grabbed Harry’s hands and yanked the towel off of Niall’s leg. Niall yelped and Louis felt a twinge of guilt. Liam quietly shushed Niall, murmuring a soft, “Shhh, shhh, it’s going to be okay.” Meanwhile, the nurse looked horrified as Niall’s blood splattered all over the floor and counter.

Louis felt slightly vindicated, but his vindication turned to rage when the woman squealed, “Sir! Sir! That’s unsanitary! You’re getting blood everywhere! Stop!”

Louis was fucking furious. “Did you just tell my brother to stop bleeding?” he asked slowly, his voice low and menacing. When the nurse failed to answer, obviously ashamed of what she had said, and rightfully so, thought Louis, he pressed on. “That’s why we’re fucking here! Because he won’t stop bleeding. He’s a small kid, and he’s lost a hell of a lot of blood. So are you going to do something about it, or keep bitching because he got blood on your desk?”

She spluttered indignantly, saying, “There’s no need for such language. This is a public place, and there are other patients who do not wish to be assaulted by your lack of manners.”

Snorting, Louis looked behind her to where the triage nurses were working and called out, “Can somebody please help my brother!”

Evidently the nurse didn’t want Louis to make any more of a scene. She leaned forward, carefully avoiding the puddles of Niall’s blood, and muttered, “Alright! Alright! Keep your knickers on.” Louis glared at her. But before he could speak, she cut him off, “Full name and date of birth.”

Louis paused. He felt absolutely horrible, but come to think of it, he didn’t actually know Niall’s full name or his birthday. “Uhh…”

Niall’s quiet voice interrupted his stuttering, and Louis shut the hell up right away. Tears were still silently streaming down his face, and his voice shook as he addressed the nurse. “Niall James Horan-Tomlinson. August 28th, 2003.” Christ, he was just a kid. And it hit Louis, how young Niall was. He hadn’t even been born in the same century as Louis. He was just a kid.

Hastily suppressing the sudden emotion that was welling up within him, Louis cleared his throat and addressed the nurse. “Anything else?”

“The triage nurses will assess him and determine his condition.”

“Great. Thanks,” Louis said, not meaning it at all but figuring he had been rude enough as it was. That didn’t stop the nurse from shooting him a dirty look as she hit a button that opened the doors separating the waiting room from the actual Emergency Department. Whatever. Louis really didn’t care. He had more important things to worry about.

A nurse dressed in pale lavender scrubs met them at the entrance. “Hello,” she greeted kindly. “What seems to be the problem?”

Louis quickly explained that Niall had a deep cut that wouldn’t stop bleeding. She smiled in a comforting way, leading them into a curtained area. Drawing the curtains to give them some privacy, she addressed Louis, “How long ago did the injury occur?”

Louis fumbled for a few seconds before deferring to Niall, who supplied, “’Bout an hour and a half ago.” Louis’ stomach dropped. Niall had been sitting alone with his fucking leg hanging open, bawling his eyes out, too fucking petrified to call Louis to come and help him. He felt as though something heavy was weighing down on his heart. Despite his best efforts, Louis couldn’t prevent his eyes from misting up a little bit. He was so awful that Niall was bleeding out yet was too scared of Louis to ask for help.

The nurse patted his arm gently, sensing his distress. She then asked, “And how did the injury occur?”

Swallowing hard, Louis fought to push words past the lump in his throat; “He cut himself.”

“Yes, but how, dear?” she asked patiently.

“He cut himself,” Louis repeated.

“Doing…?”

“He. Cut. Himself.” Louis stated slowly and clearly, enunciating each word. When that didn’t seem to ring any bells for her, Louis supplied, “With a razor.”

“Were you shaving?” she asked Niall.

“No,” Louis said, losing his patience, “he wasn’t shaving. He cut himself on purpose.” He spared a glance at Niall, who was hanging his head in embarrassment.

“Oh,” said the nurse, her tone suddenly much less friendly and much more flat. “Well I have to take a look at the wound.” Wordlessly, Harry gently removed the towel from Niall’s hip, exposing the cavernous wound and the innumerable scars.

Snapping latex gloves onto her hands, she jabbed rather insensitively at Niall’s cut. Niall winced, suppressing a whimper. After muttering something about a deep clean laceration exposing fat and muscle tissue, she turned back to Niall. “You did this to yourself?” she questioned, raising her eyebrows in what Louis felt was a very condescending manner.

Niall nodded meekly, shrinking further back into Liam’s hold. She sighed loudly and irritably.

“And have you done this before?” Once more, Niall gave the faintest of nods. Yet again, the nurse exhaled forcefully, almost snorting in contempt as she typed something into her computer. She muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, “Fucking attention-whore.”

“What was that?” Louis asked sharply, anger pulsing through him.

“Oh nothing,” she replied in a lofty tone, pasting a fake smile on her heavily made up face. Louis scowled at her. Although he would have liked to push the point, Louis knew that Niall needed to get seen by the doctor as quickly as possible, and Louis striking up an argument with yet another nurse would only belabor the problem. So, despite his every instinct screaming that he should fight back, Louis let the subject drop and simply watched as the nurse typed away at her laptop.

Eventually her typing slowed and she turned back to Niall. Her voice lacked any of the warmth and sympathy it had held just minutes ago as she said, “I need to take your measurements.” When Liam didn’t instantly set Niall down, she snapped, “I don’t have all day, you know!” Louis was ready to strangle her. She hadn’t even bothered to ask if Niall could stand, which he couldn’t.

Liam stepped forwards, still holding Niall in his arms. The nurse actually rolled her eyes. The fucking nerve of her. “How am I supposed to weigh him when you’re holding him?” she scoffed.

“He. Can’t. Stand.” Louis injected with what he assumed to be an air of finality. But the woman completely ignored him.

“Go on, stand up. You won’t die.” Her attitude towards Niall was incredibly demeaning. And Louis was about five seconds away from punching her.

Louis knew full well that sparking a fight with her was the last thing Niall needed or wanted, but that didn’t stop him from hissing, “He’s hurt his _leg_ , how do you expect him to stand?”

Barely acknowledging Louis, she huffed, “The cut is not serious enough to impair his ability to stand for half a minute. So stop babying him.” If it weren’t for Harry physically holding Louis back, he swore to God he would have attacked her. Liam also looked enraged, holding Niall tight to his chest. Louis couldn’t see Harry’s face, but he knew that he too was angry.

It was Niall’s shaking voice that truly stopped Louis from throttling the woman. “I c-can stand. P-please p-put me d-down L-liam.” Looking both conflicted and contrite, Liam tenderly set Niall down. Niall almost keeled over in what Louis could only describe as agony. Thankfully Liam caught him, keeping his steadying hands on Niall’s shoulders. Gasping, Niall clutched the towel to his leg, bent double.

The nurse tsked impatiently, snapping her fingers in an obnoxious way. “There are other patients that need to be seen. I would appreciate it if you could please stop wasting everyone’s time with your antics.”

Tears were cascading down Niall’s distraught face. He nodded, and attempted to hobble forwards to the scale, Liam supporting most of his weight. Louis stared at the number that popped up on the scale.

 _Holy shit_. Louis didn’t need to be a doctor to know that Niall was underweight. The numbers were burned in Louis’ eyes, even after they had vanished. 27.2 kg. He knew Niall was a small kid, but this was a bit excessive. Well it’s no wonder he’s small, Louis had never actually seen him do more than pick listlessly at his food, eating only a few bites before asking to be excused.

“4 stone 4 pounds,” the nurse muttered to herself, shaking her head in what appeared to be revulsion. “Very underweight.”

As she then took Niall’s temperature and blood pressure, all the while making snide remarks, Louis fought to contain his anger. When he wasn’t being berated by the nurse, Niall hung his head in shame.

Sighing exasperatedly, the devil nurse began battering Niall with questions, “Were you trying to kill yourself?”

Niall shook his head, eyes trained on his lap.

“Why did you cut yourself?”

Shrugging indistinctly, Niall looked so dejected Louis’ heart was beginning to hurt.

“You know,” huffed the nurse, “I can’t help you if you don’t answer my questions.” When Niall still didn’t speak, she snapped, “The very least you could do is look at me when I’m talking to you instead of acting like a baby.”

Louis growled. He actually growled. Niall’s watery blue eyes found Louis’ for the first time ever, silently begging him not to say anything. Louis was filled with disgust. He hadn’t realized until now that Niall’s eyes were an identical shade of blue as his own. He couldn’t believe that he had lived with Niall for five months and never noticed that they had the same eyes. However, Louis could deal with his newfound hatred for himself later, right now he needed to focus on getting Niall away from this nurse from hell to see an actual doctor.

“Any day now!” she snarled. Louis fought the urge to slam her head into the linoleum-tiled floor.

Niall’s voice was ever so quiet as he stammered, “I did it ‘cause it normally makes things better.”

The nurse jeered sycophantically, “Oh yes because cutting yourself _obviously_ makes _everything_ better.”

“That’s enough!” Louis finally injected, at his wits ends. “How dare you call yourself a nurse, when all you do is make children feel even worse than they already do! Just do your job and assess him so that he can finally see a real doctor who can actually help him!”

That evidently was the wrong thing to say. The nurse slapped a bandage onto Niall’s hip, causing him to yelp out in pain. As soon as she finished with the bandage, she promptly ejected the four of them back into the waiting area, offering them a flagrant smirk, “You’ll be seen as soon as a doctor is available” in a manner that let Louis know that she would do everything in her power to make sure it took as long as possible. Great. Just great.

Groaning, Louis slumped down into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, Harry and Liam, who had already swept Niall back up into his arms—he seemed very protective of and attached to the boy—following suit. This was fucking ridiculous. How could they justify treating Niall so cruelly? Louis pushed down the unpleasant thoughts that, up until an hour ago he had been treating Niall just the same.

The next ten minutes passed incredibly slowly, during which Zayn had rejoined them, having parked the car. Harry and Liam were doing their best to distract Niall, make him laugh, but he had lapsed once more into despondent silence, and wouldn’t look at any of them. He was probably in shock or something. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Louis figured he’d better call his dad. He didn’t know much about hospitals, but he did know that kids couldn’t be discharged without a parent present. That and his dad would want to know. Plus he was almost five hours away in Plymouth of all places. Reassuring Niall that he would be back in five minutes and was just stepping outside for a minute—not that Niall made any indication of having even processed what he’d said—Louis retreated outside to call his father.

Louis’ dad picked up on the fourth ring, greeting him jovially, “Louis! How are you son? Your mum and I are having the best time watching Izzie. You should see her, she’s brilliant.”

Scrubbing an exhausted hand over his face, Louis sighed, “Hi Dad.” He didn’t know how to tell him, so Louis just jumped right into it. “I need you to come home…Niall’s in the hospital.”

His father inhaled sharply, “ _What?”_

Swallowing hard, Louis fought to bite back the tears that threatened to overcome him, “Yeah. Dad he’s _cut_ himself.”

“Fuck!” his dad swore.

“And it’s so deep, and there’s so much blood. And…and…Dad, I’m scared,” he choked out, his voice meek.

His father swore again before trying to placate Louis. “It’s okay son. We’re on our way home. Just…just tell me, how bad is it?”

Louis sniffled slightly, “I dunno. It looks pretty bad, but the triage nurse sent him back out into the waiting room, so…so…so it can’t be that bad, right?” he pleaded. He was grasping at straws, but right now, that was the only thing keeping him from losing it completely, and Louis just needed his father to reassure him.

“Yes,” he breathed out. “That means that it’s not life-threatening.” Louis heard but could not make out the words to the frantically muttered conversation that his father was having with his mother on the other end of the line. After a moment he said, “Okay, we’ll be home as soon as we can. Just…Just keep me updated okay, son.”

“Yeah, of course, Dad.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad.” Louis hung up, reentering the hospital and returning to where the others were huddled together.

Time ticked by achingly slowly. During the first hour, Louis watched as patient after patient was led through the doors. It seemed like everyone except Niall was being called back. Niall had bled through three bandages, and each time, a triage nurse apathetically replaced the bandage and informed them that they would be called back soon. But time continued to trudge by at a snail’s pace and Niall still hadn’t been seen.

By the three hour mark, Niall was starting to look really woozy. “Loouuiis,” he slurred. “I’m really dizzy.” Louis looked at what was the fifth bandage Niall had soaked through. Well it’s no wonder he was dizzy, Louis thought angrily. He must have lost well over a liter of blood. And still no one had come to help him. Hell, they’d barely even checked to make sure he was still alive. Louis was fucking furious. After briefly comforting Niall, Louis stormed up to the front desk and proclaimed very loudly, “Oi! Can somebody please help my brother!”

Upon gaining the attention of a nurse—the one who had replaced Niall’s bandage for the fourth time—he explained, “We’ve been waiting for over three hours, he’s been bleeding heavily this entire time, and now he’s about to pass out from blood loss!”

The nurse looked remorseful. She had been the nicest one so far, actually being somewhat gentle when she peeled the bloody bandage off of Niall’s leg and reapplied a new one. “I’m sorry, we’re doing the best we can.” Louis snorted in derision. Yeah right. “Bring him back now and I’ll check his vitals again.”

Nodding, Louis called across the room for his boys. They approached, Liam carrying Niall, whose head was beginning to loll onto Liam’s shoulder.

Taking one look at Niall, the nurse, Kelly, her badge said, waved them through the doors, passed the triage station. “This way please.” Leading them past several empty beds—Louis was enraged to see that they weren’t full—she brought them to a bed surrounded by curtains, gesturing for Liam to set Niall down on the bed. The makeshift room was absolutely tiny.

Answering Louis’ unspoken question, she informed them, “I’m sorry but it’s only two visitors per patient.” She paused, waiting for them to decide who would stay. If it were up to Louis, he’d have Zayn stay, Zayn being the best in a crisis, but it seemed that Niall was the most attached to Liam…He shot Zayn a Liam a look.

Reading his mind, Harry and Zayn both volunteered to leave, imploring Louis to text them with updates. Liam said calmly, “I can stay. Mum’s not expecting me home until later anyways.” He made it sound nonchalant, but Louis knew that he was relieved he wasn’t being asked to leave Niall’s side. Liam was a very protective person, and Louis figured that seeing Niall in such a fragile state must have brought out his protective instincts.

“Thanks mate.”

Kelly said she’d escort Harry and Zayn out, also telling them that the doctor would be with them shortly. Pausing to let Harry card his fingers one last time through Niall’s dirty blonde hair, and Zayn to kiss him delicately on the forehead, Kelly then drew the curtains around the bed, closing them in and giving them a bit of privacy.

As they waited for the doctor, Liam gently pet Niall’s hair, whispering soothing words to him. Louis, on the other hand, listened to the noises around them. Many people bustled by, but some lingered for a few minutes, exchanging words. Louis’ blood began to boil as he overheard one group of nurses gossiping.

“As if we don’t have enough to deal with without people intentionally hurting themselves. Just wasting our time, taking away resources from people who actually need help. It’s pathetic,” said the first nurse.

“I bet he’s a borderline,” giggled another.

“What a fucking attention whore,” the first one said. “Borderline’s are the worst. Always manipulating people so they can get attention.”

“They really are terrible. We shouldn’t have to treat them. It’s not like they are even grateful. Really all they do is cause trouble.”

“This kid’s going to grow up to be a monster.”

“I bet he already is one,” they tittered. “Agnes said he was a brat, wouldn’t even talk to her let alone look at her.”

Louis was about to burst out of the curtains and start shouting at these nurses for even daring to talk that way about his brother; they didn’t know a thing about him. Louis ignored the fact that he didn’t even know a thing about Niall either and that, until several hours ago, he would have happily joined in on their conversation. This was so unprofessional and disrespectful. Sparing a glance at Niall, he saw that he was on the verge of tears again. However, before Louis could chew their heads off, the curtains burst open and a doctor flanked by two nurses entered.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Fetherston,” he said briskly. “Now tell me, how did you hurt yourself,” he addressed Niall. Louis doubted that the doctor didn’t already know, having read Niall’s charts, but chose not to say anything.

I’cut m’self,” Niall mumbled, ever so quietly.

“With?”

“A razor blade.”

“Shaving?”

“No, sir.”

“Then what were you doing?” questioned the doctor.

“I was tryin’ta cut m’self,” Niall sniffled, fighting back the tears shining in his blue eyes.

Doctor Fetherston’s face hardened. “On purpose?” he clarified.

Niall nodded, a single tear slipping down his cheek. His eyes were glued to his lap.

“Then why are you here?” Louis didn’t fully understand this question; it was highly obvious why Niall was here.

Still, Niall stammered out an answer, “I d-didn’t m-mean to go so d-deep. It wouldn’t st-stop bleeding. And…and normally—“

Doctor Fetherston cut him off sharply, “Normally? So you do this often?”

Niall nodded meekly. Louis felt sick to his stomach. “And why is that?”

“It makes everything hurt less,” Niall mumbled, more tears trickling down his pale face.

“Really,” said the doctor in a wry voice, “You’d consider this hurting less?”

Niall stuttered, “N-n-no. I went t-too deep this t-time.”

“And why is that? What made this time different?”

“I used a new razorblade ‘nd I didn’t know it was gonna be so sharp,” Niall said morosely. Liam rubbed his back comfortingly.

“Well, that was obviously stupid. Razorblades, especially new ones, are extremely sharp. Everybody knows that.” Louis couldn’t believe his ears. The _doctor_ just called Niall stupid for hurting himself. What the actual fuck? “You should have known better,” he scolded, only his tone wasn’t light, but rather, it was cold and irritated.

A cracking noise jerked Louis out of his shock; Liam was cracking his knuckles, a look of pure fury on his face. Louis shook his head to clear it before shooting Liam a warning look. Yes, he was equally as furious, but he was going to try and save his rage until after the doctor helped Niall.

“I know,” Niall whispered, hanging his head in shame, silent tears pouring down his face. God, the kid had been crying almost nonstop for at least five hours, plus he’d lost a lot of blood; he must be seriously dehydrated.

“What do you normally cut yourself with?” Doctor Fetherston asked.

“Lots of things. Sometimes pins and needles, sometimes glass, sometimes knives, sometimes razors…” he trailed off.

“Where do you cut yourself?”

“All over,” Niall mumbled, gesturing weakly to his whole body. Oh. It dimly dawned on Louis that this was probably the reason he wore long sleeves year round.

“And how long have you been cutting for?”

Louis’ stomach filled with dread. He didn’t want to know this. He _really_ didn’t want to know. He didn’t think he could take it. “As long as I can remember,” Niall whispered.

“How long is that?” the doctor asked indifferently.

“The first time I remember doing it was when I was seven, but I remember that it wasn’t the first time I’d done it,” Niall said in the faintest, quietest voice Louis had ever heard. Louis’ heart dropped. He felt nauseous. Niall had been cutting himself for over half of his life. He was just a kid. A baby. Despite his best efforts, Louis couldn’t stop a few tears from leaking out of his eyes.

“Why do you cut?”

Niall’s voice quivered as he said, “It’s the only way I know how to make the pain go away.” And Louis swore his heart broke.

But now the doctor was scoffing, “Well cutting is a very stupid thing to do. It doesn’t fix anything. It’s just a waste of time, because now you’re wasting all of our time by putting yourself in danger and having to come here. I have other patients to treat to, and it’s not really fair to them that you hurt yourself on purpose and are here taking away resources from people who actually need them.”

 _What?_ Louis actually could not believe he had just said that.

“’M sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry!” Niall choked out through his tears. A quick glance in his direction let Louis see the look of utter devastation on his face. He was sobbing, his skinny arms wrapped around his stomach. Louis watched as Liam gathered him into his arms, trying to calm him.

Doctor Fetherston seemed indifferent to Niall’s distress. “Well we have to strip-search you to check for more injuries,” he stated blandly, nodding to the nurses, who sprung forward and began to wrestle Niall out of his shirt. They hadn’t even bothered to close the curtains, so anyone passing by could see.

“P-please s-stop!” Niall bleated shrilly, trying desperately to cover himself as the nurses tried repeatedly to pry his shirt off.

“Either you behave or we will have to sedate you,” warned Doctor Fetherston in a cold voice. Niall fell limp.

Louis felt sick as he watched as first Niall’s shirt came off, revealing horrifically scarred arms. If Louis had thought that Niall’s hips were bad, they were nothing compared to his arms. There was not a single patch of unmarred skin. Gashes in various stages of healing stretched out over the skin, crisscrossing, some clearly new, others raised and scaly, others still filled with white puss. Louis swore he had never been so close to vomiting before in his entire life. Niall’s arms were truly disgusting. And Louis had never seen anything so sad in his entire life; the way Niall just caved in on himself as the nurses callously stripped him. However, when they made for his pants, Louis felt the need to look away. He didn’t think he could take anymore, but he also knew that Niall must have been dying inside, having his privacy so insensitively violated.

Swallowing down the bile that had risen in his throat, Louis took several deep breaths, trying to regain his control. After a few moments, Niall was allowed to put his clothes back on, and Louis turned back to him, trying desperately to erase the images of Niall’s grotesquely mutilated arms out of his mind. But it was hard. So incredibly fucking hard. But Niall needed him now, so Louis bit back his emotions, going to stand by Niall’s side and taking his small hand in his own, rubbing his thumb gently over Niall’s hand in an attempt to convey that he was here for him.

By this time the doctor had advanced on Niall. He informed him that he was going to first sterilize the wound and remove any tissue that was too badly damaged and then he would suture it closed. Louis didn’t really know much about medicine, but he thought that there was something missing. Weren’t they supposed to numb the area first, or give him some anesthetics? At first he wasn’t going to say anything, but the look of abject terror on Niall’s face led him to speak up, “Aren’t you going to give him something to numb it first? Or something for the pain at least?”

What Louis expected was for Doctor Fetherston to say of course, silly me, I must have forgotten. What he did not expect was for the doctor to shoot him a dirty look and say, “He did this to himself on purpose. I think he can handle the pain. Anyways it’s not that severe.”

Louis was too shocked to respond. Niall buried his head in his hands, sniffling loudly, shuddering in pain, fear, and shame. “But…but…he’s only twelve!” Louis was thankful that Liam had spoken up, because he couldn’t seem to find any words himself.

“He’s a big boy,” said the doctor in a nasty voice, mocking Liam, “If he’s old enough to hurt himself, he’s old enough to deal with the consequences. Anyhow, he likes pain doesn’t he, so this should be like a treat.” Louis’ jaw dropped. Literally dropped. How could anyone be so cruel? Sure he had been mean to Niall, but he had never taken it this far. He couldn’t fathom a grown adult, a doctor no less, picking so viciously on an innocent child.

Finally finding his tongue, Louis snarled, “ _Don’t you dare talk about my brother like that!_ What gives you the right to be such a cunt! He is a patient here, so you sure as hell better treat him like one! You’re going to be one sorry motherfucker when our father finds out how horribly you’ve treated his son! So you’d better fucking watch it and just do your job!”

Doctor Fetherston’s glare was like a dagger being hurled at Louis, “If you cannot respect me, then I will not treat your brother, and I will have to ask you to leave.”

Liam was quick to quip, “That’s illegal! You’d get thrown in prison if you did that.”

“Yeah,” hissed Louis, “So I suggest you shut up and do your fucking job you great big cunt.” Never in a million years did Louis think he would be speaking so disrespectfully to an adult, let alone a doctor, ordering him around, much less calling him a cunt. But Louis had been pushed beyond his limits today. And Niall was his brother. Holy shit. Niall was his brother. The truth hit Louis like a freight train. _Niall was his brother_. And he had to protect his brother. Just as he had to protect and look after his sisters, he had to take care of his little brother.

The look Doctor Fetherston shot him could have killed. “Patricia, please escort Mr. Tomlinson out to the waiting room.”

One of the nurses made to shove Louis out of the room but Louis began shouting, “Let go of me! You can’t do this! That’s my brother! He needs me here! I have every right to stay with him!” The nurse eventually relented her efforts—Louis was much stronger than her after all, and easily escaped her grasp.

“Fine,” the doctor gnarled, gnashing his teeth unpleasantly, “but not another peep out of you, do you understand? Or else I will be forced to call security on you for interfering with treatment.”

Nodding reluctantly, Louis hastily made his way back to Niall’s side, squeezing his shoulder gently.

If Louis had thought Niall had been crying before, it was nothing to how he was crying now. Louis guessed it was the combined effect of the trauma of the day alongside his humiliation coupled with the pain from getting thirty-one stitches on a deep wound without any anesthetics. He was sobbing, shuddering as he heaved in and out. Hyperventilating from crying so hard, Niall gasped and shook, earning him repeated reprimands from the doctor and the nurses holding him down. His agonized breaths rattled his whole body as he sobbed. Louis was worried that he was going to make himself sick with the force of his sobs. And it was torture for Louis. Because Niall was in unimaginable pain, and there was nothing Louis could do to help me. All he could do was hold Niall’s hand and whisper comforting words to him.

When Niall let out one particularly agonized sob, Louis actually had to screw his face up to keep from crying as well. It was just too much for him to handle. But he had to stay strong for Niall. Because Niall needed him right now.

Finally, at long last, it was over, and Niall was left heaving with the strength of his sobs. Louis rubbed his hand up and down Niall’s back, trying desperately to calm him. Liam looked to be fighting the urge to sweep Niall up into his arms. Nodding to Liam, who promptly climbed into the bed with Niall and sat him between his legs, pulling him close to his chest, Louis went out into the hallway, stopping a passing nurse to ask her for some water. She returned a minute later with a Styrofoam cup of water. Louis thanked her before returning to see Niall shuddering as Liam held him close.

“Hey buddy,” Louis soothed. “D’you think you can have some of this water? It’ll make you feel better. I promise.” Niall was utterly exhausted, having cried himself sick. Louis could see just how weak he was, both from exhaustion, dehydration, blood loss, and traumatization. So he carefully held the cup up to Niall’s chapped lips, tipping it ever so slightly to allow for the water to pour into his mouth. After downing the entire cup, Niall slumped back into Liam, completely drained. His eyes drifted shut within minutes, and soon he was dozing fitfully against Liam’s chest.

For the next forty-five minutes Liam and Louis sat in silence, too nervous to accidentally wake Niall, and too shocked from the days events to fully process what had taken place. After what felt like hours, Louis father burst into the makeshift room, having just arrived at the hospital. His eyes darted frantically back and forth between Louis and Niall before honing in on the bandage on Niall’s leg. He crossed to Niall’s side in three purposeful strides, kneeling beside his son’s prone figure. Seconds later Louis mother entered, a very sour Isabella trailing behind her. Louis breathed a sigh of relief; his parents were here now, they would take care of everything. Louis didn’t have to be so strong anymore. He could go back to being a kid again. He no longer had to hold the weight of the world on his shoulders. Because they were here now, and that was all that mattered.

“Mum,” Louis’ voice cracked as he folded himself into her arms. She hugged him tightly, one hand resting on his head, tugging him close to her as if she could protect him from the world.

“It’s okay, Boo,” she breathed, using his childhood nickname. Louis buried his head in her neck, no longer trying to fight back the tears.

After a few moments, his father reluctantly left Niall’s side to pull Louis into his own fiercely tight hug. When they broke apart, his father murmured, “You’re a good kid, Lou. Everything’s going to be okay.” Louis nodded wordlessly. He trusted his father. Returning to stand beside Niall, Louis’ father clapped a hand on Liam’s shoulder, “Thank you for looking after my sons.” Liam blushed slightly. Now addressing Louis, his father said, “Louis, can you please take Liam and Bella home. We’ll take care of everything here and meet you at home.”

Louis, though slightly reluctant to leave Niall’s side, was more than happy to leave the hospital and let his parents handle everything. “’Course, Dad.” Giving Niall a quick kiss on the forehead, Liam followed after Louis and Isabella, the latter of which had already stormed out without a word.

The car ride to Liam’s house was silent, both boys exhausted, and Isabella absolutely livid. When they reached Liam’s house, Louis walked him to the door. “Thanks, mate. For everything,” he said gruffly. Liam just pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. He bid Louis goodnight, reminding him to text him tomorrow with updates.

Back in the car with Isabella, silence rang heavily through the air. Louis glanced at his sister, taking in the scowl on her face and her tightly crossed arms; she looked absolutely livid. “What?” Louis asked, genuinely confused.

Isabella huffed in indignation, “How are you not mad right now?”

“Why would I be mad?” Louis puzzled, genuinely trying to think of what he had to be mad about.

“At the brat,” she spat out.

Louis frowned. “You mean Niall,” he corrected.

“No I mean the brat!” Louis could feel the spikes of anger shooting off of her. “The fucking piece of shit ruined my one chance to impress the scouts!”

Sighing deeply, Louis pinched the bridge of his nose to prevent him from saying something he would regret. “You’ll have other chances, Izz.”

“That’s not the fucking point!” she shrieked. “The point is that the fucking cunt thinks it’s okay to go and ruin the best day of my life!”

“He didn’t do it on purpose,” he said wearily.

“Oh so you’re taking _his_ side now! I see how it is! He’s bamboozled you into thinking that he’s a perfect little angel! Well fine, take his side you bloody traitor!”

Louis groaned loudly. “Izz, that’s not fair. I’m not taking anybody’s side. I’m just trying to—“

“Trying to get me to ‘see the light’ or some shit like that? Newsflash, you may have bought his stupid lies, but I won’t! I know the truth: he’s a fucking freak and doesn’t deserve to be alive!” Screeched Isabella, her voice on it’s way to reaching a decibel that could only be heard by bats.

“Oh for Christ’s sake, Izz, _shut up_! You may be too wrapped up in yourself to see that _our brother_ —“

“ _He is not my brother!_ ” she screamed, her voice cracking shrilly. “And he’s not yours either! He’s a fucking waste of human life and I hate him! And FYI, you felt exactly the same way up until today. So stop pretending that you’re all high and fucking mighty, you fat bastard!”

By this point, they had pulled into their driveway and Louis knew that the conversation—screaming match—was going nowhere. Plus he needed to see Niall, make sure that he was okay. Leaving an irate Isabella sitting in the car, Louis hurried into the house.

His parents were sat at the kitchen table, looking extremely somber. His father nodded for Louis to take a seat also. They waited in silence for a few moments until Isabella stormed into the kitchen. “Sit down Bella,” his father said in a voice that left no room for arguing. Isabella looked like she wanted to protest, but clearly thought better of it. “Niall’s upstairs sleeping,” he said in response to Louis’ unasked question. “But I wanted to talk to both of you.”

Louis was shocked by how old and weary his father looked as he ran his hands through his greying hair. “I first wanted to say how proud I am of you, Lou. You really stepped up today. If it weren’t for you, Niall may have died. I’m proud of you, son.” Louis knew that Isabella was inwardly cursing him for not letting Niall die. He swallowed, once again blinking back tears. His father continued. “Okay, so your mother and I have been talking, and we feel that you need to know a few things.” He paused, sighing deeply, as if trying to build up the strength to find the words to say what needed to be said. He’d never looked more like an old man than he did then, sitting there, worn and tired. He seemed to have aged twenty years since that morning when he bid Louis goodbye. It scared him to see his father that way, so old, so careworn, so frail.

Louis’ mother reached over and grasped his hands in her own, squeezing gently. It seemed to strengthen him. He began to speak slowly, exhaustion apparent in his hoarse voice. “This is not the first time Niall’s been to the hospital for self-harm. When I had to go and visit him because he was in the hospital that time when you all found out about him, it was because he had cut too deep.” His father paused again, glancing briefly at Louis’ mother, who gave him the faintest of nods and a soft but encouraging look.

His voice was tight as he continued once more, “Basically, what I’m saying is that he has a long history with self-harm. I thought it was in the past, and he’d grown out of it, but clearly he hasn’t. Now, that being said, we have to make a few rules around here to keep Niall safe. Your mother and I have agreed that first thing tomorrow, we are searching his room to remove all sharp items, but everything sharp in the house needs to be locked up. We’re going to keep all sharp things—that includes your razors, kitchen knives, and scissors—in a safe. You both will have the combination to open it, but you have to make sure that Niall doesn’t know it. Understand?”

Louis nodded, but Isabella looked dumbstruck. Not waiting for them to say anything, their father continued. “That’s the first rule. The next thing is that Niall is not allowed to be home alone. One of us must be here with him at all times. And finally, I want both of you to look out for him at school. I think he’s been getting bullied a lot, and so I’m really counting on you to be there for him. Understood?”

It was not open for negotiation. Not that Louis wanted to or anything. But Isabella on the other hand looked absolutely furious. She nodded jerkily before excusing herself and stomping up to her room.

“I’m proud of you son. You really did the right thing today.” Louis nodded dumbly. He couldn’t explain the terrible guilt inside of him so instead he just bid his parents goodnight and climbed slowly up the stairs. He couldn’t resist peeking into Niall’s room to make sure that he really was there, and that he really was okay.

As Louis lay awake in bed that night, the emotions from the day all surged over him at once. He was drowning in a sea of guilt, and shame, and anger, and regret, and grief, and confusion, and a million other things. Crying silently into his pillow, Louis thought about the day, and about Niall, and about how he had treated Niall. Louis thought about all of the things that could have led up to this moment. And after hours of crying, he came to realise four things: he really had been awful to Niall, Niall wasn’t all that bad, Niall was his little brother, and he needed to help Niall get better rather than hurt him.

With that, Louis promptly fell asleep, utterly exhausted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this was loaded. First I want to thank all of you who have stuck with me for taking so long to update (sorry about that).
> 
> I also want to say that the tragic truth is that this is how many people have been treated for self harm in the hospitals. HOWEVER THAT IS NOT TO DISCOURAGE YOU FROM SEEKING TREATMENT! IF YOU ARE WORRIED THAT YOU HAVE EVER HURT YOURSELF REALLY BADLY, PLEASE SEEK HELP IMMEDIATELY. I PROMISE YOU THAT MOST HOSPITALS AND DOCTORS ARE NOT LIKE THIS. And even if they are, your safety and well-being is soooooooo important, so please please please get the help that you need and deserve. 
> 
> Lastly, in case any of you are triggered right now (I am so so deeply sorry if that is the case) or if you ever feel the need to hurt yourself in any way, please think about using these alternatives to self harm. 
> 
> SELF HARM ALTERNATIVES:
> 
> when you're angry/restless:  
> •Scribble on photos in magazines  
> •Viciously stab an orange  
> •Scream loudly  
> •Tear apart newspapers, photos, or magazines  
> •Go to the gym, dance, exercise  
> •Pop bubble wrap/balloons  
> •Write your feelings on paper then rip it up  
> •Use stress relievers  
> •Throw ice cubes at the bathtub wall, at a tree, etc  
> •Break sticks  
> •Cut up fruits  
> •Stomp around in heavy shoes  
> •Buy a cheap plate and decorate it with what ever expresses your pain/sadness and then smash it (be careful)  
> •The Calm Jar (Fill a jar water and glitter. When upset or angry you can shake it to disturb the glitter and focus on that until the glitter settles.)
> 
> sensation (other than pain) without harming yourself:  
> •Hold ice cubes  
> •Run your hands under cold water  
> •Splash your face with cold water  
> •Put glue on your hands then peel it off  
> •Bite into a hot pepper or chew a piece of ginger root
> 
> distract or take up time:  
> •Say “I’ll self harm in fifteen minutes if I still want to” and keep going for periods of fifteen minutes until the urge fades  
> •Play an instrument  
> •Paint your nails  
> •Cook  
> •Dress up  
> •Make a chain link out of paper counting the hours/days you've been self harm free  
> •Memorize a poem with meaning  
> •Learn to swear in another language  
> •Plan a party  
> •Plan regular activities for your most difficult time of day  
> •Make a phone list of people you can call for support. Allow yourself to use it.  
> •Pick a subject and research it  
> •Take a small step towards a goal you have  
> •Re-organize your room  
> •Name all of your soft toys  
> •Do some house hold chores
> 
> when you're feeling guilty, sad, or lonely:  
> •Remember a happy moment and relive it  
> •Look at things that are special to you  
> •Compliment someone else  
> •Youtube funny videos  
> •Let yourself cry  
> •Play with a pet  
> •Imagine yourself living in a perfect home and describe it  
> •If you're religious, read the bible or pray  
> •Carry tokens to remind you of peaceful comforting things/people  
> •Write down the negative thoughts and then physically re-write them into positive messages
> 
> when you're feeling panicky or scared:  
> •Listen to soothing music  
> •Meditate or do yoga  
> •Do a “reality check list” – write down all the things you can list about where you are now (e.g. It's the 9th November 2004, I’m a room and everything is going to be alright)  
> •Drink herbal tea  
> •Feel your pulse to prove you're alive  
> •Put your feet firmly on the floor  
> •Accept where you are in the process. Beating yourself up, only makes it worse  
> •Lay on your back comfortably (eyes closed), and breathe in for 4, hold for 2, out for 4, hold for 2. Fill your belly with air, not your chest. When you're comfortable breathing, put your hand on your belly and rub up and down in time with your breathing. If your mind wanders move it back to focusing ONLY on the synchronized movement of your hand and breathing  
> •Light a candle and watch the flame
> 
> give the illusion of seeing something similar to blood:  
> •Draw on yourself with a red pen  
> •Cover yourself with plasters where you want to cut  
> •Give yourself a fake tattoo  
> •Draw on the areas you want to cut using ice with red food color it
> 
> sort through your feelings:  
> •Identify what is hurting  
> •Call a hotline  
> •Write a letter to someone telling them how you feel (you don’t have to send it)  
> •Start a grateful journal where everyday you write down three good things that happened/things you accomplished/are grateful for/made you smile. the journal is strictly for positive things. when you feel down you can go back and look at it
> 
> See the full list at:  
> http://www.teenhelp.org/forums/f12-self-harm/t9418-alternatives-self-harm/
> 
> I love you all so much, and I promise that you are worth it, no matter what. Please be safe lovies.  
> Lots of love,  
> -Lia


	3. Chapter 3

Hello my lovelies, 

I'm super super sorry this isn't a new chapter--I'm still working on that--but I just wanted to let you know that I haven't abandoned or forgotten about you or this story, it's just that I've been dealing with some personal stuff for a while that's kept me from writing. I know that I haven't updated this since July, and I am so so sooooo sorry for that; I've just been dealing with a lot of things at the moment. But I promise I'm going to try and finish this story. I'm very sorry to have to admit this but I am in need of a bit of motivation in order to kick my lazy ass back into working on this story, and I figured that you lot are all the encouragement I need. So basically, I'm going to try and have an actual new chapter up within the next week or so, but the more feedback I hear from you, the more likely I will be to update sooner. And yes, I know that that sounds kind pretty awful and very selfish on my part, but I assure you that your comments always make me even more determined to write the best possible story that I can and to do it as soon as I can too. So yes, to answer your question, I am indeed being a selfish bum and asking you to give me some feedback/comments to motivate me to update this story. And I apologize for that. Because I kind of hate myself for doing this, but I know that unless I hear that some of you want me to continue it, I most likely will keep procrastinating. Anyways, long story short, a comment would be much appreciated and would have a direct impact on the speed in which I post the next chapter. Okay, sorry for being a bum. But in all seriousness, I'm back to writing and working on this story and I have most of the next chapter done but I'm lacking motivation to finish it so I just need a little bit of help. I love you all so much.

Lots of Love,  
-Lia

**Author's Note:**

> You are all so important. So please keep fighting. You are all warriors and I know you can do it.
> 
> If you ever need someone to talk to, or encourage you, or believe in you, or you just need a friend, I am always here for you. So please don't ever think that you are alone, because you are not. You can find me on tumblr at lia-is-in-love.tumblr.com
> 
> I love you all so much and I hope that each and every one of you find the happiness and peace in life that you deserve.
> 
> Lots of love,  
> -Lia


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